


When Justice Fails

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:48:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15130421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: When a chance encounter puts Garrison and his team in the path of a deadly woman with a plan to gain information and influence over an American General, violence erupts. When the perpetrators are called to justice in front of the authorities, even the increasingly disillusioned Garrison can't believe the outcome.  Where do you look to when those sworn to justice fail you?





	When Justice Fails

**Author's Note:**

> War years, after we first met Constance Blankenship and her uncle, General George Bond, in the story 'It's Skirts Like You What Gives Love A Bad Name'.

It had been a chance encounter, nothing really even worth noting. Garrison and Actor had been in London when they stepped aside in the hotel lobby to allow the elegantly dressed woman to step ahead of them. When she turned to nod a regal thank you, her face froze momentarily, but then she quickly completed the nod and turned and quickly went on her way.

"Do you know her, Actor? She seemed to recognize one of us, and I don't remember her."

Actor looked thoughtful, "she seems familiar, certainly, but I cannot quite recall from where. Perhaps it will come to me."

It did, eventually, but unfortunately not in time to prevent the upcoming events.

"Melinda Mannington, or at least that's what she was calling herself at the time. English, supposedly of a titled family, though I don't know if that is accurate or not. She, or someone of a similar description, was rapidly gaining the name of 'black widow'."

"I encountered her briefly after her third wealthy husband met an unfortunate end. Well, the third as far as I had heard; one really never knows, does one? She was hardly more than in her mid-twenties if that. She and one she called her brother played a remarkably clever little game, pieces quickly laid out, trap laid and triggered. She would handle the target, the 'brother' would handle the wrapping up of the game. The grieving widow would discover vast previously unknown debts of the dearly departed, and have to liquidate all property in order to supposedly clear those debts; then she and her brother would vanish with the proceeds from all liquidated assets."

"They never targeted any of the truly popular or influential, or any with close friends or family to intervene, but it is amazing how many truly wealthy fools there are just waiting for the plucking at the soft hands of a beautiful woman."

Garrison gave Actor a knowing look, just thinking of what Casino and the others would say to that little statement from the experienced conman.

Garrison said, "I wonder who she's targeted in London, or maybe she's retired from it all."

"I find that doubtful, Craig. It was not only the money, in my opinion. I think the challenge played a great part, not just the con, but planning a death that would give the appearance of being either natural or accidental."

He shrugged, "the game, any game, can get in your blood; you know that as well as I."

Garrison thought about who in London he knew that might be interested in the presence of one Melinda Mannington, or whatever she was calling herself these days, but he didn't get the chance to tell anyone. He was stuck in hour-after-hour of briefings for an upcoming mission in Norway, and the next meeting with the lady herself came too quickly.

The second meeting was at a party that very next night at the home of one of London's elite, with those from the social, diplomatic and military scene being present. Garrison had attended alone, as he usually did, and was as bored as he usually was at one of these events. The presence of Constance Blankenship had enlivened his evening somewhat, the young woman indeed growing rapidly into the swan Kevin Richards had predicted she would become, but retaining enough of the duckling to be an amusing companion. They were enjoying a pleasant conversation when Constance stopped midsentence and issued a disgusted glare across the room.

"There she is again! Oh, I do wish she'd find someone else to chase!"

Garrison looked in the direction Constance was staring and felt a chill as he recognized the woman from the hotel lobby.

"Who is she, and who is she chasing?" he asked with more than a little concern.

Constance firmed her lips, "Lady Muriel Morehead, and I don't know if she's after Uncle George or General McCloud, but it's one of the two. Oooh, I don't see how they can be so blind! She's a witch, start to finish, but butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, to hear her speak. General McCloud, I get the feeling he's maybe just amused at the attention, but Uncle George is starting to sit up and take notice, just like she wants! And, Lieutenant Garrison, I don't know what to do about it! I tried to warn him off, but as much as he respects my instincts in most cases, well, I'm afraid her feminine allure is just too strong for him to ignore!"

"Tell your Uncle I said you're right about her; she's dangerous. I'll call him tomorrow and explain. Right now, I'd prefer she didn't see me, especially see me talking to you." He left quickly, not realizing the woman HAD seen him, recognized him, and was already making plans to be sure he didn't interfere with her objectives.

He and the team found two vehicles waiting as they made the journey from the Mansion to the village; Chief, at the wheel, had no opportunity to avoid the hard slam to their side as they rounded that last curve. Chief was trapped behind the wheel, the others thrown clear as the jeep rolled, but landing dazed, unable to avoid their quick gathering up by the men pouring out of the one undamaged car and the waiting van.

Neither group had even seen the young girl walking toward them on the verge, but she'd seen them and what had happened. She'd turned to run and get help, but two of the attackers saw her then, caught and subdued her, though with an amazing amount of difficulty, and tossed her in the back of the waiting van with the unconscious men.

'Melinda Mannington', or "Muriel, Lady Morehead" as she was now known in London, had plans for Actor, perhaps for Garrison and their blond thief as well, and the other men and the child would provide leverage. 

***

It had been a damnable experience, and one that would give each of them new nightmares to add to the ones they already had. They had survived, but each had gained new scars, some of the flesh, some of the mind and spirit. It was worse since this had involved children, one Meghada's nine-year-old cousin, Kara, caught up in that rushed sweep on the short distance between the Mansion and the village, the other a toddler who was the innocent child of a woman caught up in her own schemes and ambition.

Ben Miller, Jake, Sergeant Major and Private Perkins had been in quick pursuit, along with the Dragon and the child's father, since Kara's younger sister, Leah, had seen it all from her position deeper in the woods, had gotten the license plates and descriptions; they had been the ones to cry 'Rescue!' and end the misadventure, though that took more time than anyone would have liked to track them down to a house on the outskirts of London. 

Garrison's men re-lived the events as they each gave testimony, and it was not just his own gut-wrenching experience that tore at each of them, but what their team-mates had experienced as well. Perhaps that was even worse in some ways, and the knowledge that the children had witnessed all that, well, that sickened them.

For Actor and Garrison, it was what they had witnessed, for their captors had been let them be, other than binding them securely, needing both for their presence and skills for the furtherance of their schemes, luring Constance Blankenship into a position of vulnerability in one final attempt to clear the way for the 'black widow' to snare General Bond, to put the woman in a position to advance the efforts of her little cell of Fifth Columnists. Whether her involvement was from political fervor or just more of her ambitious games, they never knew. 

Garrison and Actor watched in frustrated fury as the group ilustrated just what they were capable of. The Lieutenant had felt a slight give in his bonds, and was just hoping for enough time to work his way free, to make a move for that knife his captors had somehow missed in their hasty search. That would take time, though, unfortunately enough time for Casino to undergo the systematic beating, ending with him barely conscious, enough to watch as they started on Chief. For the Indian, they reserved their knife-work, making jokes about that being fitting; they'd started slow, just a few minutes before they continued on to convincing Goniff, but Chief would bear the scars for the rest of his life. 

For Goniff, they had started with promises of safety in return for his cooperation in luring Constance Blankenship into a trap, them having heard about their friendliness at an earlier party. He'd gotten the signal from Garrison, the one telling him to stall, and he did just that.

They had made the misguided determination that he was their weak link, one easily swayed for his own benefit, but his refusal to cooperate caused them to shift toward more direct tactics. He'd fought them as long as he could, hoping to somehow delay things til something, anything could turn in their favor, til the Warden had a chance to pull a rabbit out of a hat.

He was raging at them when they stretched him out across the ground, his hands held forward, palm down across the fist-sized rocks they placed there, and prepared to destroy, once and for all, those talented hands, nimble fingers. The tall blond woman had assured the others that that was what would break him, cause him to do their bidding.

"I know about him, about them all. He's a pickpocket, a thief. He's nothing without his hands and he knows it. He'll change his mind quick enough when one hand is lost; he'd do whatever we ask to save the other."

He'd spit at her, and gotten a hard backhanded slap for his efforts. Never the optimist, he'd coldly determined to die before he'd cooperate with their demands and let Garrison down, coldly decided to make them furious enough to focus on him rather than the others, hopefully taking as much time as possible to give the Warden time to make his move. 

Garrison felt the ropes finally give way, and he located that knife they hadn't found, at the same time he heard the faint noise from outside, but by then, that grinning man was already aiming the butt of his rifle at their pickpocket's hand.

"Damn it, Goniff, it's alright! Tell them you'll do what they want!" he shouted, not knowing if he intended that as a distraction, a desperate last ditch effort to prevent what seemed an inevitable crushing blow, or a signal to those he hoped were outside - possibly it was all of those things.

The first blow with the gun butt had landed as Sergeant Major and the others broke through the doors, and at first Goniff was unsure if the roar he heard in his head was that shout from Garrison, the pain, the sound of flesh and bone protesting, or truly help arriving. Only when the young girl had come to him in a flurry, wrapping his bleeding hand in a piece of her shirt, leaning into him, murmuring to him, did he truly realize it was over.

Looking around, he saw Meghada with the toddler clinging to her back, standing between the other injured men and the fighting, knife and pistol at the ready, Garrison and Actor having had their bonds slashed so they were now joining in the battle. 

His gaze shimmered, and he didn't try to discern which tears came from the pain and which from relief and which from residual fury, but stayed, out of necessity, on his knees, the girl close at his side, not so surprisingly with a knife grasped in her hand now. Part of his mind took a moment to reflect on that, "she's Meghada's blood, that's ruddy well plain enough!"

They each testified, Garrison, each member of Garrison's team and the girl, the younger sister being deemed too young by the judges to testify or even be present in the room, though it had been her clear description that had put the rescue in motion. Gil Rawlins testified of him and the others breaking in at that moment, overpowering the Fifth Columnists, taking them into custody.

Those accused had their own defense, of course; the woman was a total innocent just caught up in this appalling episode.

"Surely you don't think I'd risk my precious Darcy by getting involved in anything like that??! And that sweet girl; you can't believe I'd cause her any harm! They've just gotten her all confused, those dreadful men!"

Her brother and uncle, well, they were just as appalled, were unsure of the actual events; even put forth the theory that Garrison and his men were acting with the Fifth Columnists, and THEY were the heroes who'd apprehended them when they'd found them uninvited in his Lordship's summer house, and Rawlins and Miller and the others had totally misunderstood what they saw when they broke in that way, that is, if they weren't in league with Garrison and his men to begin with. Well, them being Lord Bentley and his favorite nephew, Giles, the woman being the nephew's half-sister, now Lady Morehead, widow of the late Lord Morehead, it was just unimaginable that they would be party to such goings on, certainly!

The others? Well, they just played dumb; there had been little real evidence at that summer house belonging to Lord Bentley. 

And then they all waited while the tribunal, led by Colonel Pierce, deliberated. The accused were closeted for some time with Colonel Pierce and the other two judges, and no one liked the little smirks on their faces when they emerged.

Still Garrison and Rawlins waited, determined they would get justice, for with all their testimoney how could the judges decide any other way? Within the team, though, there was doubt that justice would prevail, though they tried to brush it aside; they'd seen it happen too often to be complacent.

Meghada sat, coldly, her young cousin beside her, along with Kara's father. She'd watched the judges, watched Colonel Pierce carefully, and had no great hopes for justice, not here, not now. Oh, Justice would come, by Erdu's will, but not here. She had confidence, total confidence, just not in these Outlander judges.

Colonel Pierce had to slam down his gavel several times, have the guards restrain the men as the verdict was delivered. Oh, he'd not charged Garrison and the team, just declared the whole relating of events perhaps misunderstood, exaggerated somewhat.

"It does seem rather unlikely, considering the standing of Lord Bentley and his nephew, and Lady Morehead, well, she is well known for her charitable endeavors. Perhaps a misunderstanding on all sides would be the best way to explain it all around, Lieutenant Garrison, considering the actions of your men are none too clearly defined, and taking their histories into account," though the side looks given showed the truth of that little explanation, and how he hoped to explain the wrecked jeep, the injuries to the team was a mystery to everyone.

"Lord Bentley and his niece and nephew, and their servants, will be taken to a more suitable location to ensure their safety," giving Garrison, Rawlins, Miller and the other rescuers and the team a stern look, "seeing as how emotions are running so high right now. There is to be no contact between them and you and your men, let that be perfectly clear. That will be all," and he banged the gavel once in dismissal and started to rise.

A young voice piped up, "he's making a bad joke, is that it?" The tone was one of puzzled inquiry, and heads turned toward the young girl who'd been present for the whole time.

The bitter voice of the Dragon answered her. "No, Kara, he's not joking. He's decided you and the others just imagined all that happened, misunderstood what those vehreen intended, never mind the blood and bruises and all the other injuries, all the testimony." 

"Is it that he is stupid, then, Meghada? Or just perhaps deaf as well as blind?"

Now the voice wasn't quite so polite; not rude, not yet, but not polite, more chilly and crisp. Neither of them were bothering to keep their voices lowered, in fact were projecting quite nicely.

"No, neither, just opportunistic; I imagine he thinks there is more benefit to aiding, protecting the Lord and his family than in bestowing justice upon them, perhaps a sharing of information, perhaps more," that eliciting a deep flush on the judges' faces. 

A male voice, the girl's father explained calmly. "Kara, remember what we've discussed about Outlander justice? That, just like with Clan justice, it depends on the honor and integrity of those doing the judging. Among our people, judges are sworn to judge fairly according to the facts, not letting the social standing of accused or accuser sway them; that is evidently not so among the Outlanders. Those the Outlanders depend on as their judges are obviously not so well endowed with those honorable qualities, and more often allow their own wants and needs, expediency and striving for power, to determine their judgements. They also make their own determination as to who is worthy of Justice. If a judge of our people did such, he would be stripped of his robes, thrust into the streets, there to meet the rather more rough justice of those they betrayed." 

Colonel Pierce flushed again, deeply, and started to protest loudly, demanding silence, banging his gavel against the criticism, especially since there were many voices now agreeing loudly, perhaps including that small one inside him; but perhaps not, seeing as how he'd stifled that small voice for so long now, if it had ever existed as anything other than a whisper. 

"No," Kara spoke in response to his protests, his demand for silence, her speaking clearly and firmly, "you and yours have had your say, have told of your Justice. Now it is time for another to be heard on the subject."

He paused, frozen, gavel raised, as the young girl approached him, studying him carefully. It was if he couldn't speak, and neither did either of the other two judges. She finished her appraisal, turned to look at the Lords and Lady, the others, both accused and accusers. She paused slightly at Casino, Chief and Goniff, remembering how they'd protected her and Darcy right from the first, strove to protect each other and paying a dire cost for doing so; she shifted her gaze to the stern visage of her cousin and her father, their faces equally cold. 

"I have witnessed villainy and treachery, cowardly and vicious acts such to make one weep in despair; also have I witness acts of courage and fortitude and self-sacrifice in the defense of others, both their brothers as well as two who should have been exempt from harm if by none other than their ages. The Justice that should have prevailed here in this room has failed; those who have been given the duty to judge fairly have failed out of their own weakness and the putting of their own benefit ahead of rightful Justice. Then so be it. Let Sweet Mother Erdu give Her own fair judgement to them, since their own courts, their own judges seem incapable to doing so. I doubt it will be as pleasant or as forebearing, though that will be of Her chosing, of course; for myself, I am content with Her Will being carried out."

"As for you, Colonel Pierce, and you two gentlemen, dreams do I foresee for you; dreams to, if not sweeten your sleep, at least to flavor it heartily, and indeed your waking hours as well as your sleeping ones. Remember what was spoken here, and may your dreams see the faces and bodies of yourselves and your own loved ones in the place of those who were injured and threatened; may your dreams see and wrap yourselves in the fate of those Judged by our Sweet Mother."

A smile, cold and far older than would seem possible, came to her young face, and her voice was one of someone much older as well.

"May your dreams continue just as long as the dreams, aye, the nightmares of those in this room continue, or for the rest of your lives, whichever is the longer, even haunting you into your graves should Erdu permit. So do I speak on behalf of Erdu."

And there seemed a shudder in the air, a sudden chill, and Craig Garrison thought he heard a distant clap of thunder, and the others, except for those of the Clan, looked up and around uneasily.

Colonel Pierce shook himself, pursed his lips and ground out, "this tribunal is adjourned!" rose and marched quickly out of the room; the other two judges followed, but giving an uneasy look behind at the small girl watching them so sternly. 

Meghada drew in a deep breath, walked forward to touch Kara gently on the shoulder.

"And are you our Red Duchess on this Turn, Kara?"

There was no amusement, no admonishment in her voice or her face, only a respectful inquiry. The face that turned up to her was gradually shifting into the child she'd been before, and a shy smile came to her.

"No, not the Red Duchess, cousin; just a stand-in for the moment, as the Sweet Mother chose for me to be. Seemingly she thought your acting as Her voice might be less clearly received, them thinking your own emotions might be getting in the way of conveying Her true words, fools that they can be," getting an accepting nod. 

And if all of those looking on didn't understand, Garrison and his men thought perhaps they did, remembering another visit by the Red Duchess and Justice that had been given out.

The guards kept everyone there til it was deemed the accused had had time to be safely ensconced wherever the judges, in their wisdom, had ordered. When the word was given that they could leave, but before they could do so, Kara paused in front of their resident pickpocket, him carefully working that still painful battered hand to keep it from stiffening.

She reached out to touch him gently. "It will heal, cousin, and do all you ask of it once more, losing none of its skill. But remember, in the meantime and beyond, your true worth is here," touching him above his heart, then softly between his eyes, "and here. Everything else, while most welcome surely, is just a sweetener to the whole."

And her smile was one of such serene purity, he felt himself yielding to her words, however strange they might seem. He raised his eyes to find himself looking into bright green ones, a blond head nodding in agreement with those words, then at the gold-brown eyes of his 'Gaida, who gave a wry grin, at him hearing from another what she'd tried to tell him for so very long. 

Chief got his own moment, his own reassuring words, as did Casino, and the comfort she gave sank deep within them as well, something they'd always remember.

It was noted with some interest that the sudden storm that descended on London that Noonday, that far off clap of thunder being the first sign, caused some slight damage, but nothing of great significance. Well, other than that giant lighting strike that caused the massive oak standing outside a secured residency to fall with a mighty crash.

That Lord Bentley, his niece and nephew and their cohorts were passing underneath at that moment was indeed tragic, their mangled bodies being retrieved with some difficulty once the storm passed; it was deemed somewhat of a miracle that the military escort was unharmed, as was young Darcy, the Lady's toddler son, all seemingly just a couple feet outside the deadly reach of that ancient landmark.

Colonel Pierce had turned dead white at the news, and he and his two fellow judges immediately called for an investigation to determine if there could have been any outside forces at work. That alone caused a few raised brows, for there had been any number of witnesses, and the marks of lightning were most distinctive and the many witnesses were all of one accord.

Their mention of Garrison's name and the others was considered even more odd, since none of the team members or anyone else from the courtroom had even left HQ yet when the lightning hit.

"And it's not as if we knew where or when they were transferring them anyway," Actor had proclaimed quite truthfully with a shake of his aristocratic head.

Casino snorted, "and aint like we can call down lightning bolts either!" 

The word started around HQ that Colonel Pierce and the other two seemed to have gotten a bee in their collective bonnets, and someone needed to get it out before it did damage. Of course, that was only the first of some rather strange interactions with the Colonel and the other two; odd conversations between their fellows, even odder conversations with persons who seemed to be invisible, arguments, protestions of their innocence of any wrong-doing, although no one was accusing them of anything. They started at any noise, were forgetful and seemed to lose track of their thoughts with increasing frequency. Their physicians compared notes, trying to figure out what might have caused the symptoms, but somehow the complaint of nightmares, hallucinations, sleeplessness, exhaustion, lack of appetite of any sort, well, it was non-definitive. They were seen to be becoming more and more erratic, tired and jumpy, and finally were relieved of duty, with the diagnosis of the non-combatant version of battle-fatigue.

One thing they seemed to hold in common, well, other than the complaint of nightmares and visions; that was the recurring monologue they'd each engage in on occasion, one concerning duty, justice, and the importance of being true to one's calling, "because She's watching, you know, always watching". That lasted the rest of their lives, and their children and grandchildren remembered, and hopefully, took it to heart, as the tale of how that all had been put to the test was relayed from mouth to mouth, even though it was on the surface dismissed as the maundering of minds too stressed by their duties. 

Young Darcy seemed to be rather abandoned, there being no member of Lord Morehead's family willing to take on the 'burden' of raising a child born to the Lady Muriel before she had married the late Lord Morehead. The grown children of Lord Morehead were disdainful of the very idea.

Well, the Clan knew of one of the Friends who had a longing for a child, but had never been gifted with one; Darcy was gathered in eagerly, and went on to make a proud name for himself within the Family and Friends. And Kara? She remained Kara, never again acting as the Red Duchess for the Sweet Mother, but to the end of her days, rejoiced that she had been so honored, being able to help bring Justice for those who deserved it. And the hearts of the Clan, already well inclined toward Garrison and his men? They held only warmth and acceptance and support, all of which would serve the men in good stead in the uncertain future.


End file.
